As the Years Pass By
by keyequalslock
Summary: "What do you want?" Sam asked eventually. "Just wondering about what I'm going to do about you," Lucifer answered. "Are you going to kill me?" At that, Lucifer just snorted. "Don't be stupid. You're as good as dead already. I couldn't kill you even if I tried." Then he smirked. "And let's say I could kill you, where would be the fun in that?" (Cage AU, samifer if you squint)


As the Years Pass By

.

 _Sam remembered falling. It felt like years. Just falling. Through the darkness. He didn't feel the air blow through his hair, or his cloths fluttering. He didn't remember hitting the ground. He remembered waking up._

.

Sam opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was the foggy figure in front of him. Despite his blurred vision, he immediately recognized him. It was Lucifer. He was standing a few metres away from the place where Sam had woken up. Sam recognized his appearance as the vessel he'd had when Sam said "yes".

"Lucifer," he said, and the Devil smiled. It was more like a smirk.

"Hi, Sam," Lucifer said. He took a step closer. Sam took a step backwards.

"Stay away," he said.

"Aw, don't be like that," Lucifer pouted. "Might as well get used to having me around." He smirked. "After all, we'll be spending a lot more time together from now on."

"Get away from me," Sam snapped.

This time, it was Lucifer stepping backwards. "Have it your way. See you around," he said and disappeared.

Sam started breathing again, surprised to discover that he had been holding his breath. He got up, and for the first time since he got here, he became aware of his surroundings. The sky above him was grey, and the ground he was standing on had about the same colour. It wasn't exactly dark here, but it certainly wasn't bright. It was similar to what you could expect on a cloudy afternoon.

And there was nothing. Other than the ground and the sky, there was nothing. He didn't know what he had expected, but this was certainly not it. When he'd thought about the Cage, he had pictured an actual cage, with bars and everything.

Sam thought about Earth. He remembered being a passenger in his own body. It had been awful. Having to watch, but not being able to do anything about it, whenever Lucifer did something horrible. Then Lucifer had started beating Dean. Lucifer hurting his brother was what finally made him able to regain control. Then he had jumped.

At least Dean was safe. Sam wondered what he was doing right now. He hoped he was going to see Lisa, as he had told him to do.

Sam looked around again. Just grey as far as the eye could see. Nothing. Just the sky and the ground. Sam wondered if he would ever reach the wall of the Cage, if he started walking. This place couldn't be infinite, could it?

Just one way to find out.

.

Several days must have passed until the next time Sam saw Lucifer.

"Lucifer," he said, a lot like he had done last time they encountered. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same," the Devil said. Sam didn't quite understand what he meant by that, but didn't bother to ponder over it.

Instead, he got straight to it, and asked, "Where is Adam?"

"Adam? As in the youngest Winchester?"

Sam nodded bitterly. He'd had lots of time to think these past few days, with nothing else to do than to walk. (He didn't reach the wall of the Cage, in case you were wondering). One thing he'd been thinking about was his half-brother Adam, whom Sam had dragged down here with him. He felt guilty about not asking Lucifer about him the first time they had spoken.

"Don't worry, he's not here," Lucifer said. "He died when Cassie molotoved Michael." Sam couldn't help but notice how bitter he sounded when he said it. His voice were back to normal when he added, "Probably safe and sound in Heaven."

Sam was relieved, and he did nothing anything to hide it. He already felt guilty about not saving Adam from Michael. He didn't know what he would have done if it turned out that he had doomed Adam to an eternity in Hell (literally and figuratively) as well.

"What about Michael?" he asked after a while.

"What about him?"

"Where is he?"

Lucifer's face hardened. "He's in the Cage, somewhere, if that's what you were wondering."

Sam didn't say anything for a while. The Devil looked at him, as if he were waiting for him to say something.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked eventually. "What do you want?"

"Just wondering about what I'm going to do about you," Lucifer answered.

"Are you going to kill me?"

At that, Lucifer just snorted. "Don't be stupid. You're as good as dead already. I couldn't kill you even if I tried." Then he smirked. "And let's say I could kill you, where would be the fun in that?"

Sam didn't like where this was going. "Then what?" he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

Lucifer looked like he was thinking about it. "You're an interesting creature, Sam Winchester. You have a soul unlike anything I have ever seen. I wonder what might have happened if I took it apart. Do you think I would be able to but it back together again? As the way it was?" He took a step closer.

This time, Sam didn't move. He was too shocked to do anything. "Are you going to torture me?" he asked, terrified of what Lucifer might answer.

"No, of course not," Lucifer said quickly. "Of course not. I'd never hurt you." He looked horrified that Sam could even suggest such a thing. Sam wasn't sure if it was real or not. Either way, he was not convinced.

"I guess it would hurt though, if I took your soul apart," Lucifer said, and almost sounded sad. Then he got that wondering look again. "I wonder how much pain it would take for Sam Winchester to break." He took another step closer.

"Please, don't," Sam begged. He started moving backwards. "Leave me alone!"

Lucifer just looked at him. "Some other time then," he said. Then he was gone.

.

Years passed until the next time Lucifer decided to show up again.

And Sam felt… relieved.

He almost flinched when he realised. No. No, he wasn't relieved. This was Lucifer. Satan. No one in their right mind would be relieved when seeing the Devil. But Sam couldn't help it.

He was alone. And it was awful. He felt like he was going crazy. Which he probably was. Who knows how long he had been down here. With no day, and no night, it was impossible for Sam to tell how much time had passed.

It felt like years. Maybe it had been just a few months. Time seems to pass slower when you are alone. And he was alone. So very alone.

Sam felt guilty about being relieved to see Lucifer, but it just felt so good to see _someone_ , even if it was the Devil.

"Sam," he said, and _oh god_ , how amazing it felt to hear another voice than his own.

"Lucifer," Sam said, almost like a greeting.

Inside him, his emotions were running wild. He didn't know how to feel. Fear, guilt, joy, anxiety, peace, anger, relief. But most of all, he was just happy to hear someone else's voice.

The Devil looked at him with amusement. "I see your body is gone."

"What?"

"You didn't notice?" Lucifer asked, with a voice that sounded genuinely surprised. "Must have been Castiel. Poor thing. How long do you think it will take him to notice that what he brought back is just a shell?"

"What do you mean my body is gone?" Sam asked confused. "I'm standing right here!"

"The Cage isn't a physical place. You're simply seeing what your mind is able to comprehend, altering your conception of reality." Lucifer seemed amused. "I wonder what the you top-side are doing, the you without a soul. An emotionless and unscrupulous Sam Winchester."

Sam stared at Lucifer, horrified. "You're lying."

Lucifer sighed. "I told you before Sam. I won't ever lie to you."

Sam didn't answer.

"What are you doing here?" he asked after a while. He was afraid of what Lucifer might answer, but he felt a desperate need to talk to him.

"Do you want me to leave?"

"No!" Sam said, a little too fast. Damn it. He managed to keep his face calm, but wasn't able to hide the faint blush appearing on it.

Lucifer smirked. "Then I'll stay." Despite his taunting expression, there wasn't any trace of mockery in his voice, which Sam appreciated.

He decided not to think more of his rather embarrassing outburst. Instead, he asked, "How long have I been here?"

Lucifer thought about it. "About ten years," he said.

"Ten years?" Sam said with a hoarse voice. Ten years. For ten _years_ , Sam had been walking around in the Cage. Alone. He had been completely alone for ten years. Sam knew that he had been here a very long time. He even suspected that he might have been here for years, but he was shocked either way. Hearing Lucifer say it aloud made it… real, somehow.

"Where have you been?" Sam said, almost accusingly.

Lucifer looked at Sam. "Around," he said.

"For ten years?"

He scowled. "What do you mean by that? Last time we spoke, you seemed to want me gone pretty badly."

Sam actually had to take a moment to think about—and try to remember—last time they spoke. After all, it had been ten years since the conversation. Before he came to the Cage, there were no way he would have been able to remember any conversation from ten years ago. In the Cage, however, nothing happened. There weren't much to remember.

"You did threaten to kill me," he said after a while, vaguely remembering their conversation.

At that, Lucifer frowned. "I did no such thing."

"Yes, you did!" It was coming back to him. It wasn't a very pleasant memory. "You were talking about tearing my soul apart!"

"That I did. I never said anything about killing you," Lucifer said, still frowning. "And even if I had threatened to kill you, I never did anything to harm you."

"That's why I asked you to go away. So you wouldn't," Sam said bitterly.

"I told you Sam, I'll never hurt you," he said calmly.

Sam looked doubtfully at him. "Sure you won't," he said, and regretted it almost immediately, remembering whom he actually was talking to. This was Lucifer, the Devil. He could change his mind any moment. It was bad enough being stranded here in the Cage with two of the most dangerous beings in the universe, but torture? Being tortured by the Devil himself was something Sam never wanted to experience.

"It makes me sad that you trust me so little. What did I ever do to earn your distrust?" Lucifer asked.

Sam opened his mouth to reply, but realised that he didn't have a good answer. 'You're Satan' wasn't a very good argument, no matter how true it might be. The truth was, Lucifer had in fact never lied to or tried to hurt Sam.

"You— you were planning to start the Apocalypse," Sam stuttered.

"What does that have to do with your trust?" Lucifer asked. Sam hated to admit it, but he was right. There was no reason for Sam not to trust him.

He wrinkled his nose. Did he just let the Devil talk him into trusting him? Did Sam just admit that it was okay for him to trust Lucifer? This was bad. This was very bad. He could not trust Lucifer. He was the _Devil_ , for crying out loud! But Sam wasn't able to ignore the small voice in the back of his head telling him that it was okay.

Was this Stockholm syndrome?

As if Lucifer knew what he was thinking, he said, "See? You can trust me, Sam."

Sam did nothing to indicate agreement, but he didn't deny it either. At this point, Sam had forgotten about what they were arguing about anyway.

Neither of them said anything for a while. Lucifer seemed to be waiting for Sam to start a conversation. Sam didn't know what to say. So they just walked for a while, not saying anything.

Sam enjoyed the silence. It was good to hear another voice than his own, but he didn't mind the silence, now that he wasn't alone. Having someone near felt good. To be honest, Sam didn't care that the person sharing his company was the Devil. It felt good. That wasn't something he could say often down here, and he wasn't going to deny himself the feeling, even though he was probably going to feel bad about it later.

At some point, they had sat down next to each other on a rock. It had the same colour as everything else here. It was grey. Sometimes, Sam would look at Lucifer, just to see some colour. He noticed that he had blue eyes. In a world were the only colour was grey, it was nice to look at Lucifer's eyes. They had a nice blue.

They must have sat there for days. Or maybe just hours. It was hard to tell. Sam had stopped keeping track of time a long time ago. He didn't know if he could trust his inner clock either. He suspected that it was pretty messed up after living in a world where there was no day, and no night.

Sam eventually broke the silence. "Why does this place look like it does?"

"What does it look like to you?" Lucifer asked.

Sam looked around. "Grey," he said. "Nothingness. It's just ground and sky as far as the eye can see. And everything is in the same shade of grey."

"I told you, the Cage isn't a physical place," Lucifer said. He looked as Sam with curiosity. "I guess this is what you imagined the Cage to be like, and that's what you see."

"Yeah, except I imagined the Cage as an actual cage. You know, with bars and everything," Sam said, frowning.

Lucifer looked surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah," Sam said. Before Lucifer got the chance to say anything more, Sam asked, "What about you? What does it look like to you?"

"Whatever I want it to look like," Lucifer replied.

"What? Really? You can make it look like whatever you want it to?"

Lucifer smiled. "You're forgetting that I've been here for hundreds of thousands of years. I've learned a trick or two."

Sam looked at Lucifer and felt a stick of jealousy. He had been wandering around here in this grey, boring landscape for a decade, and it almost drove him crazy. Lucifer, on the other hand, could just make the place look like whatever he wanted it to.

"What does the Cage look like to you now?" he asked after a while.

Lucifer looked around. "Grey."

Sam frowned once more. "Why?"

"That's how you explained how you see it," Lucifer replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Sam didn't understand. "If you can make this place look like whatever you want it to, why in the world would you voluntary choose to see this boring wasteland?" he asked.

"It's not all voluntary. You put the picture in my head. Sometimes, it just happens subconsciously," Lucifer explained. "I could change it if I wanted to, but it doesn't really matter to me, so why waste the time and energy?"

Sam didn't know how to reply to that. He still couldn't understand it. He would do anything to alter the appearance of this awful place. "How long until I'll be able to do that?" he asked.

"Millennia. Maybe more, maybe never," Lucifer replied. He must have seen Sam's disappointment, because he continued: "You are just a soul. A special one, sure, but still just a soul. It took me centuries, but I am an archangel." There was no scorn in his voice. He was simply stating facts.

"I guess," Sam sighed, still a bit disappointed.

Lucifer looked at Sam and tilted his head. "What would you like to see?"

"What?"

"What would you like to see?" he repeated.

Sam blinked. Then he said, "Dean."

Lucifer rolled his eyes. "The Cage's appearance, I meant."

"Oh. Right." This time, Sam made an effort to hide his disappointment. Of course that had been what he meant. Why would he think otherwise? He shook his head and said, "Colours. I'd like to see colours."

He barely finished the sentence before the whole place changed. The grey wasteland disappeared. Instead, he stood in a flowery meadow.

Sam was gaping. All those colours… It was beautiful. He had never seen anything like it in his entire life. Green, red, yellow, blue, pink and every other colour he knew of. He was speechless. After living in this monochrome place, every colour seemed to light up like the lights on a Christmas tree. He felt like a colour blind experiencing the entire colour spectrum for the first time. It was amazing.

When he finally turned around again, towards Lucifer, he was grinning. Only to discover that Lucifer wasn't there. His smile faded away.

"Lucifer?"

No reply. And to his surprise, Sam felt sad. Sad that Lucifer wasn't there. He didn't even feel guilty about it; for wanting to share this moment with the Devil. He wanted Lucifer to be there. At least just so he got the chance to thank him.

Instead, Sam was once again alone.

.

Sam was—as always—wandering around in the grey wasteland. The meadow had disappeared a long time ago.

The landscape never changed much. Sometimes, he would see rocks, small ones and big ones, but never over a metre high. If he walked past a big rock, he sometimes stepped upon it. Or he could pick up smaller rocks, and have a competition with himself. How far could he throw it?

Sam walked past a group of rocks in different sizes. He picked one up. "This one is nice. I think I'll be able to throw it further than the last one," he said to himself and stepped upon one of the bigger rocks.

He didn't remember when he'd start talking to himself. Probably sometime during his first few years here. Now it had become habit. Normal.

In a previous life, he had read studies that said that talking to yourself was a sign of high intelligence. Most people said that it was the first sign of insanity. Sam thought that he was probably going insane, rather than showing signs of high intelligence. On the other hand, talking to himself was at this point the only thing that kept him sane.

"Huh. It didn't go that far. Perhaps it was too heavy," Sam said after throwing the rock. He stepped down and continued walking.

Sam didn't know why he always was walking around. Maybe it was to prevent everything from standing still. It often felt like everything was standing still. Especially time. At least if he kept walking, the world would keep moving.

He was about to pick up another rock when he heard thunder. The ground shook, as if an earthquake hit the Cage. It wasn't a big deal. Sam was used to the earthquakes. He didn't know what caused them though. If he had to guess, he would say that Michael and Lucifer were at it again.

"That was a big one," he said out loud. He didn't know who he was talking to. Maybe himself. Or maybe the surroundings. It didn't matter. No one heard him anyway.

The thunder and the earthquakes continued for a while, but in the end, it stopped. It always did. And it always started again.

Sam didn't know how long it lasted. Days, weeks, years; he couldn't tell. Time didn't exist in Sam's world. For him, there was only infinity. He didn't know how long he'd been here. If felt like forever. And no time at all. Every day was the same. He could no longer tell them apart. It didn't matter. Nothing did.

Sam started walking.

"I am going to walk this way," Sam said and pointed.

Sam didn't know why he said that. He didn't know why he said a lot of things. Sometimes, he would just say random words or sentences. He would tell himself something, then to it, or do something, and then say what he did. He didn't know why. It was probably just him going insane.

He wondered if he was insane. Sometimes, he felt like he was insane. Was he insane? He didn't know.

"Am I insane?"

"I don't know."

"But if I was insane, I probably wouldn't realise, would I?"

"I don't know."

"So am I sane?"

"I don't know."

"There is a lot of things I don't know."

"Yes, there is."

"What do I know?"

"I know that the colour of that sky grey."

"The ground has the same colour."

"Yes, it does."

Sam continued walking. He often asked himself that. What he insane?

Perhaps. He didn't know.

The ground started shaking again. When was the last time? Days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries. Sam wondered if he had been here for more than a century. Sometimes, he would wonder how long he had been here. Here in the Cage. He knew in his mind how long a century was. One hundred years. But how long was a hundred years? How long was a year? He knew it was 365 days, but he had forgotten how long it felt. Was a year a long time? He tried to remember how long a year was.

Memories form _before_ had started to fade. Sometimes he even wondered if _before_ had ever happened. Maybe this was where he had always been. Maybe this was the real word, and _before_ had been a dream.

Sam thought about Dean. He didn't want to believe that Dean had been just a dream, a false reality. He remembered Dean. His brother. He wondered what his brother was doing now. Was he still hunting? That was what they did. That had been his life. He remembered that.

The rumbling stopped.

Was he going insane?

"Am I going insane?"

.

He didn't know how much time had passed since last time he saw Lucifer. Sam studied the familiar face.

"Lucifer," he said. There were no traces of fear in his voice anymore. When he said the Devil's name, it was simply just a greeting.

"Sam," Lucifer said. Then he smiled. Sam didn't. He wasn't sure he knew how. Had he forgotten how to smile?

"How are you doing, Sam?" Lucifer asked.

Sam blinked. "What?"

Lucifer tilted his head. "Isn't that how you humans usually greet each other?"

Sam thought about it. "I don't know."

When Lucifer looked at Sam this time, it was with concern. "How are you?" he asked again.

"I'm not sure," he replied. "I am? Am I? I am, I think. Are you?"

Lucifer lifted an eyebrow.

Sam sighed. "Damn it."

He pause. "Lucifer, am I going insane?" he asked after a while.

To this, Lucifer took a step closer. This time around, Sam didn't back way. He didn't see any point in it. He wondered why he ever had. There was nothing to be afraid of.

The Devil put a hand on the left side of Sam's head. "You're okay, Sam," he said. "It's just been a long time since you talked to someone." He let the hand fall.

Sam didn't want him to let the hand fall. The physical contact felt good. He couldn't remember last time he'd touched another being.

"Lucifer?"

"Yes, Sam?"

"Can you change the grey?" The sentence sounded a little strange, but he knew Lucifer would understand what he meant.

A moment later, he and Sam was sitting on the top of a hill with a stunning view. Sam gasped when he saw all the colours.

In the valley under them, there was a giant lake, surrounded by trees. It seemed to be autumn, because the leaves had all different kinds of colours, but the grass they sat on was green as in the spring. The sky was bright blue, with clouds in all shades of pink, and mountains covered in snow surrounded the lake. Sam could feel a breeze blowing through his hair, but the lake was calm, and the entire scenery was mirrored in it.

"Beautiful," Sam whispered. It was breath taking. He looked at Lucifer, and in that moment, he remembered how to smile.

At some point, they had laid down in the grass, and were watching the clouds together.

"Say something," Sam said, still watching the sky.

"Why?" Lucifer asked.

"I just like to hear your voice." The moment the last word left his mouth, he realised what he had said. That was not what he meant!

But Lucifer just chuckled quietly. "What do you want me to say?"

"Anything."

"Okay," he said. And he started talking. He talked about Heaven, Earth in the beginning of creation, and his life before the fall. And Sam listened.

It was nice. Laying there, listening to Lucifer's tales.

After a while, he said, "What about you, Sam?"

"What about me?" Sam said, not sure how to respond.

"You tell something about you," he replied.

Sam blinked. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything."

To that, Sam smiled. "Okay."

Sam still had a hard time recalling some memories. After all, _before_ had been a long time ago, and there weren't much to say about _after_. And he started talking. He talked about Dean, when they were younger, when they were older. He talked about Stanford, and he talked about hunting.

Sam realised that he did remember. Of course he did. It wasn't like he had forgotten about _before_. It had been so long, and the memories didn't come as easily to him as they once had. But he remembered. And the more he talked, the clearer his memories became.

"I miss them." He turned his head so he could see Lucifer. The Devil was looking at him. "I know," he replied.

Sam paused. Then he asked, "How long has it been?" The question wasn't very specific, but Lucifer understood.

"About 40 years."

Sam looked away. He looked at the sky. "That's a long time," he said, not sure if to himself or to Lucifer. When he looked back, he couldn't help but notice how similar the colour of the sky, was the colour of Lucifer's eyes.

"Where have you been all this time?" Sam asked. He recalled asking him something similar the last time they talked. This time, it was definitively an accusation. "I was alone." It almost surprised him to hear how hurt he sounded. Was he hurt because the _Devil_ had ignored him for 30 years?

"I'm sorry, Sam," Lucifer said. Sam wasn't sure if it was his mind tricking him, but the Devil actually sounded sincere. "It's… complicated."

"Is it Michael?" Sam asked.

Lucifer hesitated. "Yeah, to some extent," he said reluctantly.

"Don't go?" Sam said. It was more like a question.

Lucifer smiled. "I'll stay. For a while."

.

Lucifer stayed. Sam didn't walk alone anymore. He walked with Lucifer. And the grey wasteland disappeared. Now they walked through forests, on mountains, on plains, through meadows, and down the riverside. It was spring, winter, summer, and autumn. It was cold and warm. The sun shined and it rained.

And they talked. Or they didn't. But most importantly, Sam was no longer alone.

Until he was.

Lucifer left. Sam walked alone once again. And the grey wasteland was back. And Sam was alone.

Sam felt more alone now than ever. They spent years together, and he had forgotten how alone he used to feel. It felt like a piece was missing. He had become so used to Lucifer being there, that when he'd left, it was like an important part of him was gone.

 _Before_ , he had never truly been alone. He vaguely remembered feeling alone when he left for Stanford. When Dean hadn't been around anymore. But he was never out of reach, not like this. He remembered how alone he'd felt when Dean went to hell. But even then, he hadn't been _alone_. There had been people around him. Bobby. Even though he had tried to ignore him. He had felt guilty about that later.

Then he'd arrived _here_. And he had been alone, _so utterly alone_. Not even Dean's death made him feel as alone as this.

But he got used to it, somehow.

Then Lucifer had showed up, after 10 years, and it felt so good to see him. To see _someone_. But he was there for only a short amount of time. And when he left, Sam had been able to handle it. It wasn't that bad. He managed.

When Lucifer showed up the second time, it had been such a relief. He had felt like he was going out of his mind. Being alone for so long seriously fucked him up. With Lucifer around, he had been able to feel like himself again. Like _Sam Winchester_.

After being alone for 30 years, it had felt like Sam Winchester was slipping away. It became harder and harder to remember _before_ , and the people he cared about. It became more difficult to remember who he was, and who he had been. He had done his best to stay sane, but he had been unable to stay _Sam_.

But Sam Winchester wasn't gone. When Lucifer showed up, Sam felt like he had found back to who he was. When he wasn't alone anymore, he had been able to go back to function like a normal person again, and not the empty shell he'd been of over a decade.

And Sam enjoyed Lucifer's company. He had even grown to like the Devil. He wasn't as bad as people made him out to be. He was kind, caring, and he talked to Sam, and listened to him.

A part of him wondered if that was just Cage-Sam talking. The Sam that had been completely alone for _years_. The Sam that desperately needed company, and someone to talk to. The Sam that was so grateful to him for just talking to him, and taking him to a reality where every day wasn't the same grey _nothingness_.

A part of him wouldn't let him forget that this was _Lucifer_. The Devil. The personification of evil. The one who started the Apocalypse. Who planned to destroy Earth, and everyone on it. This person wasn't his friend, but his enemy. He was the whole reason he was stuck here in the first place!

But Sam couldn't bring himself to hate him. Not after saving him from insanity. For being there for him. He wasn't able to see Lucifer as an enemy. Lucifer was his friend.

His friend who left him. And now he was alone. So very alone.

.

It was only a few years later that Sam started to feel the effect of the Cage. Or at least he thought it was a few years. Again, he had no concept of time anymore.

It started as just an uncomfortable feeling. It was like having an itch in a place where you can't reach. Except the sensation was in his entire body. After a while, he got used to it. It didn't really bother him all that much.

Sometimes, he would feel a stick of pain. Like as if someone tried to rip him in half. But it was never a lasting feeling. It disappeared as fast as it came. Sam didn't mind to much. After all, he'd endured more pain after a decade of hunting, than he had after half a century in Hell. Which was quite ironic, in his opinion.

It wasn't until a couple of years later it became _bad_. Over the years, the constant uncomfortable feeling developed into the constant feeling of pain. At first, it wasn't that bad. It was like having bruises all over him, which were constantly under pressure. Again, Sam was used to pain. He could endure it. But it only got worse. Bruises became open wounds, wounds became broken bones. Now, it felt like he was constantly being shot in his gut, stabbed in the chest, and _torn apart_.

It felt like torture. It felt like someone was torturing him.

Sam cried. It hurt so bad. His skin was being ripped off him. He was sliced open, and his internal organs were ripped out of him. All the bones in him body were being broken. Body parts torn apart. Except it wasn't actually happening to him. He wasn't being tortured. He just felt pain.

And _oh_ the pain. It was _unbearable_. He wished he could die, so he wouldn't have to endure this tremendous pain. The Cage wouldn't even let him pass out. Not in half a century had he slept, or been unconscious. It just wasn't how things worked here.

Sam fell on his knees. Then he just collapsed on the ground. He wasn't able to move. The pain was too much. He wished he were dead. Why couldn't they just let him die? It would be a relief.

He had thought about just ending it before. Ending the grey, the nothingness, the _nothingness_. Somehow, being alone was torture in itself. Being alone could be worse than physical pain. Slowly going insane, and being aware of that. _Knowing_ he was going insane. _Feeling_ himself, Sam Winchester, slipping away.

But while being alone could be worse than physical pain, it was nothing— _nothing_ —compared to the pain he felt now. What was going on? Had Lucifer finally decided to start torturing him? Maybe this was all Lucifer, tearing his soul apart. How much would it take to break Sam Winchester?

And he was braking. He would have said that it was killing him, but at this point, dying would be a relief. Although some would argue and say that he was already dead.

It was hell. This was Hell.

Sam lay on the ground, curled up like a ball, still screaming in pain—knowing that no one was th— ere, no one to hear him. Was this how Dean had felt when he was in Hell? Just the thought of anyone, especially Dean, experiencing this level of pain, hurt almost as much as the pain itself.

"Please," Sam begged. "Make it stop." But no one was there. He wished Lucifer were there. He didn't want to be alone. _And he wanted the pain to stop_.

"Lucifer," he whispered.

Just moments later, Sam heard the familiar flutter of wings.

"Sam."

"Lucifer," he breather, and the relief flowed through his body.

"Sam?" He sounded worried. "Sam, what's wrong?"

"I can't—" Sam started, but was interrupted by another wave of intense pain. "Pain," he managed to say through clenched teeth.

Sam felt a hand on his shoulder. "It's gonna be alright," Lucifer said, and Sam believed him.

He could see light, and immediately, the pained eased. And Sam relaxed. He was exhausted, and all he wanted to do was sleep. But he couldn't.

Lucifer helped him up to a sitting position, and held him tight. "You're okay, Sam," he said. "You're okay."

Tears were streaming down his face in a seemingly endless flow. Tears of pain, even though the pain was gone, and tears of relief. That was all he could feel. He was relieved. Relieved that the pain was gone, and relieved that Lucifer was there, holding him.

Sam closed his eyes and let Lucifer hold him. "Thank you," he whispered. Lucifer didn't say anything. He just held him, and stroked his back reassuringly.

They sat like that for something that felt like a small eternity when Sam eventually moved again. "Lucifer?" he said.

"Yeah?" Lucifer's voice was soft.

"Why?"

Lucifer didn't say anything for a while. "It's the Cage," he began. "It isn't meant for human souls. It was meant to hold me, one of the most powerful beings in existence. Your soul is strong, but not even you can fight the power of the Cage."

"It hurts," Sam said. He knew he must sound like a child, stating the obvious. He felt helpless. He felt like a child.

"Your soul has started to break apart," Lucifer explained. "I can but it back together, heal it, to some extent. But I won't be able to make it the way it was. I'm sorry, Sam."

"Don't be sorry. It's not your fault."

Lucifer whispered something. It could have been " _but it is"_ , but it was just a barely hearable mumbling, so he wasn't sure. It didn't matter anyway.

Sam got up to a sitting position. He rested his head on Lucifer's shoulder. For the first time since he opened his eyes, he became aware of his surroundings. He recognized it as the flowery meadow Lucifer had taken him the second time they met after the fall.

"Can you stay?" Sam asked.

Lucifer smiled. "Yes. I'll stay."

.

"Why are you so nice to me?" Sam asked one day. He and Lucifer sat by the ocean (or at least something looking like the ocean) in silence.

"What do you mean?" Lucifer asked.

"I mean, you never tried to hurt me, or torture me. In fact, you have been nicer to me that most people I've known," Sam explained.

Lucifer didn't reply right away. "Why wouldn't I be?" he said cryptically after a while.

"You're—" Sam started, but didn't finish, realising what he was about to say.

"The Devil? Satan?" Lucifer finished for him.

Sam nodded, a bit ashamed. He thought he had already established that it wasn't a very good argument for anything. And he felt a little bit bad for almost calling Lucifer "Satan" again.

"I'm sorry, it was a stupid question," Sam said, shaking his head.

"It's okay. I get it. I have done some not very nice stuff in my time. Some of it I don't even regret," he said. "I am not a nice person."

Sam was about to protest, but Lucifer didn't let him.

"I still want revenge for what my father did. What Michael did," he said. "I want the humans to pay."

"You still want to go through with the apocalypse?"

"Yes," Lucifer said.

Sam hesitated. The he said, "If we ever get out of here, that's what you would do? Continue what you started?"

"Probably."

"Probably?" Sam looked at the archangel. He had expected a clear "yes".

Lucifer shrugged.

Sam stared at him, and Lucifer stared at the sea. "Why?" he asked.

"Why what?"

"Why would you go through that again?" Sam asked. "If you continue the apocalypse, you will only be met by opposition. You are going to start a war. Why would you want to live through another war?"

Lucifer didn't answer right away. He continued to stare at the ocean. The blue water shimmered in the light from the sun. There was a gentle breeze, and the sound of waves hitting the shore filled the air.

"You know I spent a long time down here," he began. "Hundreds of thousands of years. Even for me, that's hard. I was… alone." He hesitated. "Lonely.

"But the one thing that kept me hanging on was the thought of revenge. I had a goal. It was reassuring, somehow. It was like a fixed point. Light in the end of the tunnel, to use one of your human phrases." Sam swore he saw a hint of a smile on the Devil's face.

"I guess it became the only thing left to live for."

Lucifer was still glaring at the blue masses of water. Sam looked away, and joined him. The sat there in silence for a while.

Once again, Sam was amazed by the striking resemblance between the colour of the ocean and his companion's eyes. In the light of the sun, they were shining as bright as the ocean. He shot glanced in Lucifer's direction, not even bothering to hide it. They had spent too much time together for Sam to be embarrassed by such a trivial thing.

"You're not alone anymore, you know," Sam said after a while, still staring at the ocean.

This time, Lucifer smile. It was a bitter smile. "True." Then he sighed. "Is it selfish of me to be happy?"

The question took Sam by surprise. "Are you happy?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, I can think of one or two reasons," Sam said, gesturing at their surroundings. Lucifer laughed. It was nice sound. Sam wished he would laugh more often. Sadly, he didn't. Sam didn't laugh much either. They rarely had any reason to laugh. Which was one of the reason Lucifer's statement surprised him.

Still smiling, Lucifer replied, "Well, for starters, as you pointed out: I am not alone. That's a huge upgrade from last time around."

"You enjoy my company?"

"Yes," Lucifer said.

Sam looked at the Devil with scepticism. That was not the answer he'd expected. "I thought you didn't like humans?"

"I don't."

"Then why would you like me? I _am_ a human, just in case you haven't noticed."

Lucifer laughed again. "I have noticed," he said with a grin.

Sam squinted. "Then why?"

"You know you're adorable when you got that look your face," Lucifer said, still with a wide grin.

"You didn't answer my question," Sam said, too annoyed with his friend to react to the compliment. If you could call it that. Either way, it certainly wasn't something he ever thought he would hear the Devil say.

Lucifer was clearly trying to suppress his laugher, with minimal luck. The laugher out after a while, and his expression changed. It became more serious. "It is true that I am not very fond of your race. But my resentment it mostly aimed at humanity."

"I don't get it. Isn't that the same?"

"I may hate humanity, but I don't really hate individual humans."

"That makes no sense."

Lucifer's serious expression disappeared, and was replaced with a chuckle. "Maybe not. But it doesn't matter."

Sam was still not satisfied with the answer he had received (or not received), but he couldn't help but smile. "You should laugh more often," he said.

"Oh really?" Lucifer smirked. "Maybe I will."

They returned to their previous activity of staring at the ocean in silence, but in the corner of his eye, Sam could still see a smile on the Devil's face.

It wasn't until much later he realised that he had referred to Lucifer as his friend.

.

Sam, once again, doubted his sanity.

He was walking next to Lucifer, as he often did.

It was one of those times, when he had a moment of clarity. He was walking next to Lucifer. He felt safe. And that bothered him. He shouldn't feel _safe_ next to this person. This was a dangerous non-human being. He should fear this being. He should be trying to get away from here. Instead, he was seeking the company of said being.

The logical part of his brain was trying to reason with him, but it met a lot of resistance from his heart. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't disregard the fact that Lucifer had saved him. He couldn't fear him. He was unable to fear him. When he looked at the angel, he could only feel affection, gratefulness and fondness.

Once again, he wondered if this was what they called Stockholm syndrome. But then again, Lucifer wasn't really holding him against his will. Sam knew Lucifer would leave him alone if he had asked him to.

 _Lucifer is the reason you are here in the first place_ , his brain tried to reason. _He hate humans. He started the apocalypse. He is willing to do so again. He is not your friend_.

Sam considered Lucifer his friend. It was strange, really. He was friends with Satan. In fact, Lucifer was the best friend he had ever had. He had never been able to be his true self with any other of his previous friends. No one knew him as well as Lucifer, and he knew no one as well as he knew Lucifer. It was strange indeed.

Sam laughed, earning a puzzled look from said friend.

"What?" Lucifer asked.

Sam chuckled. "It's funny, you know."

"What?" Lucifer repeated, a little annoyed with Sam for not answering.

"I just realised," he smiled, "that the Devil is my best friend."

"Why is that funny?" Lucifer asked.

"Well," Sam said slowly. Why was that funny? He wasn't sure. "You know. I dedicated my entire life to hunting monsters. The bad guys. And you, you were the greatest enemy we ever faced. I sacrificed everything to defeat you." He smiled again. "And look at us now."

Lucifer seemed to think about it. "Okay. I understand what you mean." He paused. The he stopped and turned around. "Do you really consider me your friend?" he asked.

"Of course," Sam replied. He hesitated. "Do you consider me _your_ friend?"

"I guess." Lucifer looked puzzled. "I haven't had any friends in a very long time."

Their surroundings shifted. They was at the top of a hill. Beneath them was a frozen lake. They sat down in the soft snow. It wasn't cold. It was very comfortable, in fact. Sam moved closer to Lucifer. Then Lucifer surprised him with grabbing his hand. Sam looked down at their touching hands. It was nice.

Being close to Lucifer felt good. He remembered one of the first times he talked to Lucifer. He remembered how nice it felt to be close him. At that time, it was mostly because he had been alone for so long, and being near any living breathing being would have felt good. This was different.

Sam wasn't alone anymore. He still enjoyed the feeling being close to Lucifer gave him. It was hard to describe. He felt safe. It made him feel good. It was a good feeling, simple as that. He felt at ease. It was very comfortable.

 _Before_ , he hadn't really had the opportunity to let himself feel this content. Back then, he had always been on his toes, always looking behind his back. It had been drilled into him from a very young age. Even when he was at Stanford, he'd slept with a gun in the bedside drawer.

Sam sighed. For a while, he just let himself enjoy the moment. This was nice.

.

The pain became worse. After a while, Lucifer wasn't able to keep it away anymore. He was still there, trying to piece his soul back together, and his presence helped, but not for long. However, the pain was bearable. It wasn't even half as bad as he remembered it to be a few decades back, before Lucifer was there.

The waves of pain came more often. Sam would clench his teeth together and endure it. He had been through worse. And he knew it would pass. Lucifer would make the pain go away, as he always did, even if he couldn't keep it away forever.

After a particular bad episode, Sam was left panting. If he had been able to, he was sure he would have been sweating as well. He felt Lucifer's hand on his shoulder. "Sam? Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Sam managed to say in between inhaling and exhaling.

"You don't look like you're fine," his friend said with a grimace on his face. "How bad is it?"

"Maybe an 8?" Sam said after a while. His breathing had calmed down, and it was easier to talk.

"That bad?" Lucifer said worried. On a scale from 1 to 10, an 8 was pretty bad. While what he usually felt was a 1 or 2, maybe even a 3, an 8 was close to being unbearable.

Lucifer touched his forehead. The pained eased, as the Devil healed the damage on his soul. Sam relaxed. Lucifer let his hand fall. It found its way around Sam's shoulders instead. He leaned against the archangel. Lucifer held him tight, as if just holding him could keep the effects of the cage away.

Sam sighed. "I feel better now. Thank you."

His companion smiled. "Any time."

Sam relaxed against Lucifer and let him hold him. It felt good, being close to him like this. For a moment, he let himself believe that Lucifer could keep him safe by just holding him. He sighed.

"You okay?" Lucifer asked, noticing it.

"I am now," Sam replied. Lucifer's head rested against his, and Sam could feel him smile.

"I'm glad."

.

"What are you smiling for?" Sam asked Lucifer one day. They were walking down the riverside. It was sunny, and the leaves on the trees were green. Sam was having one of his better days, and the pain was bearable, for once.

The previously small smile developed into a grin. "No reason," he said.

Sam scowled. "Tell me."

Lucifer tried to suppress the grin, but failed. "It's stupid, really. It's not even funny," he said and looked away. "Just forget it."

"Lucifer!"

Lucifer put his hands up in defeat. "Fine, fine, no need to get upset," he teased.

"I'm not upset!" Sam said loudly, and immediately regretted it. Lucifer smiled knowingly and Sam scowled. "But if I was, it would be your fault."

Lucifer chuckled. After so many years, the sound was still foreign. Lucifer had become more relaxed over the years, but Sam rarely heard him laugh. It was a shame; one of Sam's favourite sounds was the sound of Lucifer's laugher.

"Well, go on. Tell me," Sam sad again, ignoring Lucifer's teasing.

Lucifer expression changed and he sighed. "Today, it's hundred years since you died," he said.

Sam didn't say anything for a while.

"Sam?"

"That's why you were smiling?" Sam asked, a little hurt.

"Well, kind of." Lucifer looked a bit guilty. "I said it was stupid. It's just— I'm glad."

Sam stepped away. "You're glad that I'm dead?"

"No, that's not it," he said and stopped. "I know it's selfish, but I _am_ glad. I am glad you're here with me. I enjoy your company. I like who I am when I'm with you."

"Oh."

Lucifer looked down on his feet. He was ashamed, Sam realised. It was an emotion he had never seen Lucifer with before. He was a proud being. Sam couldn't think of anything that could have made him look like this. It was very uncharacteristic and Sam didn't like it.

"I know you would rather be back on Earth with your brother. But I'm glad that you are here with me instead," Lucifer continued. He looked up. There was determination in his eyes. "You're mine and you always have been. This is right. We were meant to be together. You belong with me and I belong with you."

Sam didn't say anything for a while.

"Sam?" Lucifer said concerned. "You're not angry, are you?"

Sam shook his head. "No." He reached out his hand, and Lucifer took it.

"I'm also glad," he started. "I'm glad I got to know you. You're not as bad as everyone make you out to be." He poked Lucifer in the side teasingly. "You're my best friend, and I wouldn't have it any other way. And even if I would rather not be stuck down here, I'm glad I'm stuck here with you."

Lucifer smiled softly, one of his more infrequent smiles that made Sam warm inside. "Me too," he said, and squeezed his hand.

They sat down by the river. Sam took off his shoes and put his feet in the water. He let the feeling of the cold running water wash over him. It was quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the sound of running water. It was a nice would. Sam had told Lucifer this before, which might be why there was often a river or stream nearby.

"Why do you do that?" Lucifer asked.

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. It feels nice, I guess." He grinned at Lucifer. "You should try it."

Lucifer looked at the water with scepticism. His shoes disappeared and he rolled up his jeans. He put his feet into the water. "What now?" he said and looked up.

"Now nothing," Sam replied. He leaned backwards and closed his eyes. The sun felt warm on his skin, in contrast to the cold water.

"Do you know how much time has passed on Earth?" Sam asked.

"Almost year, I suppose. A month up there is about ten years down here."

"I wonder how Dean is doing," Sam said. He didn't mean to say that out loud. He continued nonetheless. "I told him to go to Lisa and live a normal life. I hope he did, and that he's happy. I hope he's not wasting his life looking for me. I want him to live a long happy life, and hunters don't have the best life expectancy." Sam chuckled. "Just look where it got me."

Lucifer didn't say anything. It was fine. Sam didn't need him to say anything. He was just thinking out loud.

To think that it was a hundred years since he got here. It was hard to comprehend. He had spent most of his life here. If you could call this living. According to Lucifer, he was dead after all. And to think that he was going to spend the rest of his life (death? Afterlife?) here. It wasn't as hard to think about now as it once had been. He had Lucifer now.

Sam wondered if he would always be here. Would he still exist in a thousand years? His soul was tearing apart. It probably wouldn't last forever, even with Lucifer's healing. He wondered how long he would last. Would the pain get worse? Would his last days be spent in agony, until his soul was so torn that he wouldn't register the pain? And what would happen to Lucifer? He didn't want Lucifer to feel alone after he was gone.

Thinking about it hurt. It was sad. He didn't want Lucifer to spend the rest of eternity down here. Perhaps God one day would say that he had atoned for his sins, and let him out. God couldn't possibly mean that they were supposed to stay down here forever. Wasn't Christianity supposed to be about forgiveness? He forgave humanity, didn't he?

"What are you thinking about?" Lucifer asked.

"Life and death. Eternity," Sam said. "I probably won't be here forever." He looked Lucifer in the eyes. "How long until my soul tears apart for good?"

Lucifer hesitated. "I don't know." He looked sad. "I want to keep you forever."

At that, Sam smiled. "Yeah, that would be nice, wouldn't it?" He looked up into the blue sky. "If we ever get out of here, will we still be friends?"

"Why wouldn't we be?" Lucifer said puzzled.

"Well, you know, with the Apocalypse and all."

Lucifer remained quiet for a long time. "I don't want to lose you," he said in the end.

They were sitting right next to each other now. Sam rested his head against Lucifer's shoulder. This was nice. He didn't want this to disappear. He didn't want to lose Lucifer either. He supposed Lucifer was right; they were meant to be together. He didn't want to lose this. He didn't want to die.

"Will you be okay when I'm gone?"

Lucifer smirked. "What, do you plan on leaving any time soon? Maybe on a vacation?" he said sarcastically.

Sam snorted. "Yeah, right." He shook his head and chuckled at the stupid joke.

"You know what I mean," he said more serious.

"Yeah," Lucifer sighed. His blue eyes were filled with grief, as if he were already gone. "I don't know. Probably not." He looked away.

Clouds were slowly drifting past them. They were the big white kind of cloud—those that looked like cotton. Sam studied the clouds, trying to find pictures in them, as he used to do when he was a kid.

"You know I love you?" he asked suddenly. "I care about you."

Lucifer stiffened. He remained quiet for a very long time. Sam continued to watch the clouds, still resting his head on Lucifer's shoulder. He found a white cat in the sky, as well as a dragon, a light bulb, and face.

Sam supposed it wasn't something anyone had said to him in a long time. Which was part of why he felt the need to say it. He just wanted him to know. He was one of the most important people in Sam's life, and he wanted him to know that.

"I know," Lucifer said hesitantly in the end. "I love you too."

Sam smiled. He moved closer to him, and felt him rest his head against Sam's.

.

Sam was tired. He had been here for over a century now, and he was tired.

He was scared. He had been here for a century, and his soul was almost completely shattered. Lucifer did his best, but some things just can't be fixed. Sam was almost at his limit. He knew he wouldn't last much longer.

Lucifer was desperate. Some times, he would disappear, and the Cage would start shaking. It reminded Sam of he time when Lucifer and Michael was still fighting. It wasn't the same though. This wasn't Lucifer fighting with Michael. This was Lucifer trying to destroy the Cage from within. He wasn't succeeding.

Most of the time, however, he would be by his side, trying to make the most of their time together. Because soon it would be over. Sam's soul would break completely, and he would be gone. He would cease to exist. Maybe the broken bits of his soul would still be here when his soul shattered, but Sam Winchester would be gone. He would only exist in the memory of his loved ones.

Lucifer was in denial. Whenever Sam brought it up, Lucifer would change the subject, or try to convince him that they would be fine.

The pain was still there, worse than ever, but Sam barely noticed. He was too far gone.

He was tired. He wanted to sleep. But he could never sleep. The Cage would never let him.

Sometimes, he found himself hoping that it would be over soon. Sometimes, he wished his soul would just hurry up and break apart. Then he would have to live this hellish life. Sometimes, he wanted to ask Lucifer to stop healing him.

Sam closed his eyes. He wanted to rest.

"Sam? Sam?" a voice called. The voice was panicked. He felt a boost of energy, and his eyes flew up.

"I'm here," he mumbled. Lucifer was holding him tight.

"Don't leave me," he said.

That was his line. Many years ago, it had been Sam begging Lucifer to stay, not the other way around. Sam almost smiled. He would have if he hadn't been so damned tired.

Sam didn't say anything. There wasn't anything he could say. He wanted to comfort Lucifer, and tell him that it would be alright, and that he wouldn't leave. But he couldn't. It would be a lie. Lucifer had told him once that he would never lie to him. He never did. Sam wouldn't either.

Lucifer was holding him so tight that he wouldn't have been able to breathe, if he was still alive. He was holding him as if he could keep Sam there forever if only he held tight enough.

Sam sighed and closed his eyes.

.

One hundred and twenty years had passed. That meant twelve months on Earth. It had been a year.

Lucifer and Sam were sitting together on the top of a mountain. He rested against Lucifer's chest. They'd been sitting there for a while now. A few month maybe.

His body hurt. Or his soul, to be more precise. But the pain was dull. He had learned how to handle it. Lucifer presence helped as well.

It was quiet. It was always quiet nowadays. Sam didn't have the energy to talk. Sometimes, Lucifer would, but most of the time, it was just silent. Maybe that was way he was surprised when someone suddenly called out his name. And it wasn't Lucifer.

"Sam Winchester," a foreign voice said. Beside him, Lucifer stiffened.

"Who is it?" Sam murmured against Lucifer's chest.

"Death," Lucifer said.

Sam opened his eyes and squinted. He was right; the person standing in front of them was Death himself. Sam wondered what he was doing here.

"Why are you here?" Lucifer asked, as an echo of his thoughts. "Are you here to take Sam?"

"Yes," Death replied.

"Well, that's too bad. You can't have him," Lucifer said quietly. His voice was cool. He was angry.

"I have an agreement with Dean Winchester. I will be taking Sam back to Earth," Death said.

"No," was Sam's immediate response. At the time, Lucifer managed to utter a shocked " _What?"_

Lucifer was staring at Death with wide eyes. "Are you serious?" he asked in disbelief. "You will— He can go back?" Something resembling hope started to form in Lucifer's eyes. Death simply nodded.

"No," Sam repeated. Lucifer grabbed him by his shoulders. "Sam, you're not thinking straight. You can't stay here," he said and looked him straight in the eyes.

"I won't leave you," Sam said.

"You will be gone soon anyway," Lucifer said. His voice was surprisingly cool. Almost bitter. "At least this way, you won't disappear forever." Lucifer turned away from him and looked at Death instead. "Take him," he said.

"Lucifer, don't—" Sam tried, but Lucifer cut him off.

"This is not up for discussion. If you won't go willingly, I will force you," Lucifer said dangerously. Then his expression changed, and became almost pleading. "Sam, please do this," he begged.

"Please, go. I don't want you to suffer. You have a way out of here. Take it."

Sam looked at Lucifer for a long time. He looked so crushed that it made Sam's heart bleed. Sam had never seen him like this. He looked so desperate, and broken, and sad.

"Okay," he said in the end. Lucifer let out a relieved sigh. He dragged him into a bone-breaking hug.

"Thank you," he muttered.

Sam closed his eyes. Tears were streaming down his face in a seemingly endless flow. It hurt. It was worse than the pain from the Cage.

"I'll miss you," Lucifer said, which only made Sam feel worse.

"I'll miss you too," he sobbed.

"Sam," Death repeated.

Lucifer tugged away, and it felt like a piece of his soul went missing. "Go," he said. He got up and stepped backwards.

"Sam, when I return your soul to your body, I will put up a wall, so you won't remember any of this," Death said seriously.

"What," Sam croaked. "No, you can't do that." He couldn't do that! He couldn't just take away years worth of memories. Sure, not all of them were good memories, but a lot of them were. He couldn't forget. He couldn't forget about Lucifer. He was leaving, and he would probably never see him again. He _needed_ those memories. They were _his_ , and no one had the right to take them!

He turned to Lucifer for help. "Please don't let him," he pled.

But Lucifer wasn't looking at him. His face was expressionless, and his eyes were dead.

"I have to," Death said. "Your mind won't be able to handle it."

"Lucifer, I won't forget," Sam said. He tried to get eye contact, but Lucifer refused to look at him. "I promise. I will never forget."

Death reached out a hand.

"Please," Sam tried, but it was too late. The Cage was gone. Lucifer was gone. Everything was gone. For the first time in over a century, Sam blacked out.

* * *

A/N: Hey you all! This has been one of those things that have been lying around on my computer for a while now, but I finally got around to finish it. I hope you liked it! This was originally supposed to be a samifer, but I don't know, I feel like it ended up as more platonic. But what do I know, I'm aroace ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I guess it could be seen as both. Whatever you prefer! Feel free to comment and tell me what you think \o/

~Mari


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